Collateral Lust
by Mishka Germash
Summary: [Hannibal Rising] Inspector Popil liked to play dirty. After he stole Hannibal's security, he stole Lady Murasaki. Now it was Hannibal's turn to steal something from the Inspector.
1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:** Well here it is! The new story. This one will definitely be more...erm...graphic? I know my last story was showing a sensitive/in love side of Hannibal. Here I'd like to show that a little, but try to stick more to the animalistic and perhaps a little sick and twisted Hannibal. I think this one is a good one and I hope you all agree!!!

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**Chapter One**

The smell of eggs and bacon wafted through the quaint house on the corner at an early hour of six o'clock. The sizzle was a comforting sound to wake up to, and inspector Popil had grown accustomed to it. He thought himself lucky, if not a little spoiled, with his comfortable situation. He dressed slowly, taking meticulous steps to assure his appearance was perfect. He had never been a cocky man, but he took great pride in his job and therefore his appearance. He made his way down the old wooden steps, his neatly shined shoes clicking on the way down.

His smile was big as he peared into the kitchen to see his daughter, busily working on breakfast. She had grown in the past few years and every day she looked more and more like her mother. Her long, raven hair was perfectly straight and hung down to her waist. He couldn't help but think it was her own way of keeping her mother's memory alive. Her mother had kept her hair long, and ever since her untimely death five years ago, Morgan hadn't cut hers either. They each had their own way of keeping her mother alive. She, with her hair, and him with his new love interest.

He hated to admit that when he had first seen Lady Murasaki, the resembalance to his wife was uncanny. She, too, had been Japanese, but he could have sworn they could be sisters. After his first meeting, she consumed his thoughts and the guilt was heavy. He had asked blindly to his wife's spirit what to do, and no answer seemed to come. But after Hannibal had escaped the raging fire on the ship, the answer finally came when Lady Murasaki was nestled in his arms as he comforted her. The answer had been a gentle 'Yes'.

In the months that followed, the closeness of the two had been something Morgan had to get used to. He knew she was bitter, but she still showed her loving support to her father in any way possible. Although, she often left the house when Lady Murasaki came for a visit. He wasn't sure if it was because she did not care to be around her or because she felt the need to give them privacy.

"Good morning." Morgan chimed, turning to her father and shooting him a glimmering smile of perfectly white teeth. He smiled back and realized that he'd been standing in the doorframe for quite a while, with his thoughts elsewhere. She placed the food on a plate for him and set it on the table next to a cup of steaming coffee. He quickly took his seat and began eating. She joined him at the table and looked up at him.

Her eyes were definitely not her mother's. They were Pascal's. Despite the slight slant of her eyes showing her heritage, they were the same green as the inspector's. They created a shocking appearance to her dark hair and light skin. They were bright and dancing most of the time, but sometimes when she was angry, they turned a dark grey. She was a stormy personality, never knowing which way she could go. Either way she went, she did it with grace and a calm that only she and her mother could possess. Morgan never did have much of a temper until her mother's passing from cancer. Psychiatrist after psychiatrist had said to give her time, but it seemed time had been given and still she was an angry youth.

Pascal chalked it up to age, now. Sometimes eighteen year old girls were just like that, so he forgave her outbursts as he had forgiven her mother. Her tongue was sharp as a blade, and she did not hesitate to use it on anyone. She seemed to choose the right words to make someone cry, and yet she chose the right words to comfort the most battered heart.

"So, father, how has the investigation been going?" Morgan smiled as she took a large drink of milk.

Pascal glanced up from his half-eaten plate of food and shook his head.

"You know I don't agree with talking of investations with you, Morgan."

She frowned and went back to her food.

"I know, but sometimes the news stories just fascinate me. It seems to me, you speak with everyone about it except for me. You even speak with the Lady about it." She added, bitterly. Pascal rolled his eyes gently.

"It is not a subject I wish to taint your mind with. Besides, Hannibal Lecter has gotten away and is obviously not near any of us anymore. The investigation has become cold. We're working on something different now."

Morgan accepted this answer and took up the plates, placing them in the sink. She was fascinated with all the stories she had heart of the young doctor, and had found herself fascinated with every fact she could get. She did not like Lady Murasaki, but she listened to every word she would say about Hannibal. Morgan did not know what he looked like, but she always pictured him as a young, strapping lad. He was not much older than her, only by about a year or two. She found boys her age awkward, but she did not like to think of Hannibal as so. Although part of her was fearful of him, it was more so due to her status. She had been escorted for many months by two officers from her father's department. They had been fearful of a possible attack on her life for Hannibal to seek revenge on Inspector Popil.

After months of it not happening, they had given up and she was once again allowed her privacy wherever she went. Her trips to the park and to the local shopping centers had been very much tainted by the two young, slobbering officers they escorted her everywhere. They obviously had nothing better to do, as they seemed fascinated by everything she did. She took the time to polish up on her snide come backs, and found herself very well practiced by the time the dogs had been called off.

"Lady Murasaki is coming over tonight." Her father mentioned, rising from his seat and grabbing his coat and hat. Morgan's face turned sour, but she quickly covered it with a smile.

"I shall find something else to do, then. I'll probably go shopping. They're putting out the spring fashions now." She was a good actor when it came to covering her disgust or disagreement, but she knew her father saw through it all. Damn his training!

"That's fine." He kissed her cheek. "I'll be back at five." The door shut behind him, and she began her daily ritual of tidying the house. Then she went to her room and after brushing her hair, she changed into some clothes and began her trip to the market.


	2. Chapter 2

**Chapter Two**

It was a beautiful day and the air was clean and smelled of heat. The bright sun left a nice warmth on top of Morgan's head as she walked towards the market. The market was loud and smelled of fish and raw meat, but it was a trip she usually enjoyed anyhow. It was even nicer without the escorts! She gripped the basket tightly and walked, observing the fresh fruit and picking out the best apples and grapes. She knew she would have to pick up wine, as well, due to Lady Murasaki coming that night. Although she did not approve of her father's choice, she would gladly appease his interest for now.

Morgan glanced up quickly as she heard a drunk causing some trouble over at a fish stand run by a local Frenchman. She smiled, shaking her head, she looked back down at the apple in her hand. She squeezed gently, checking for bruising and abrasions, and then handed it to the cashier to total up the price for the delicious fruits. She handed him the money, and thanking him she began walking again.

The drunken man was still yelling obsceneties, the police now having arrived, were restraining him into some handcuffs. She watched him closely, observing his behavior in almost a curious manner. She never considered herself condescending or judgemental, but merely curious of others' behaviors. The drunk looked towards her as she walked by and smiling a gross smile let out a lecherous laugh in her directions.

"I like my women with meat on their bones. Tell me, love, would you like some more meat in you?" He laughed again and Morgan stepped up to him.

The officers restrained him tighter, and looked to Morgan in recognition.

"Madam Popil. Please, keep your distance. He's quite a pot stirrer." Officer Paradis looked at her in warning, but knew better than to reprimand an inspector's daughter. Things like that usually got back to their fathers and then their fathers would have some pull at a suspension. Morgan gracefully lifted her well-defined chin and her cheekbones turned up in a smile as she spat in the drunk's face. Her spit pouring over him and her satisfaction was shining brightly.

"Good day, officers." She said politely as she turned and walked away with the same grace as she had walked up to them with. She snarled to herself, but kept her mind calm. The thought that he had all but called her plump almost hurt her feeling. Almost. She was not skinny as was the style these days, so therefore she had often been teased in grammar school. Her hips were full and her legs were strong. Her stomach was not concave, but nowhere near convex. She liked to think of herself as curvaceous. Her father always told her that she looked as if she had walked straight out of a Vermeer painting with her pale skin and full hips. No, she was not fat. She liked to think she was just right. But it still did not quell the achings of insecurities.

She continued her shopping at a lesiurely pace, every once in a while stopping to look at the vendors who carried purses and jewelry. The loud noise did not bother her anymore. Ever since she had taken up the family shopping when she was thirteen, she had become accustomed to the market place. She knew every vendor, every turn and every curve. Her first trip alone had nearly been traumatizing. Many vendors had overcharged her, not knowing her status as the daughter of an inspector. Once she had come home, she had collapsed in tears. The noise, the smoke, the stares had all scared her her half to death. Her father held her afterwards asking for the vendors who had overcharged her. The next day it had been taken care of, but ever since then she had been determined to be self-sufficient and independant.

She had accomplished this in those five years and knew everyone thought of her as a cold-hearted bitch. She embraced the assumption and made it her defense and armor. She found the more frigid she became, the less obstacles she had to face. There were no boys pining for her affections and no friends to drag her down. The only friends she had had were off at universities or married and moved away. So now it was just her and her father. But now she didn't even have him to herself. She had to share him with Lady Murasaki.

She was not pleased with the situation. She felt Lady Murasaki was merely using him as a comfort now that Hannibal was gone, and that her was just a substitution for the pain Hannibal had taken care of. Now the he had left her, just as her late husband had, she needed a new man servant. Thus, her father came into the picture and took the job with a smile on his face. It was a shame he couldn't see that she was using him, but Morgan knew her father would see it in time.

Morgan began her walk home, her basket full of breads, fruits, and some meats. The sun was slowly dimming as it reached mid-afternoon. It seemed as if the sky was on the verge of rain, so she began to walk a little faster. Much to her chagrin, the rain droplets began to fall and she grimaced as they grew harder and harder. She avoided getting soaked by taking cover under an awning of a hotel and began impatiently tapping her foot. She wanted to be home by now so that she could grab her coat and make her way out of the house again before her father arrived home.

Morgan jumped as an umbrella opened in her face and looked over to see a young man handing it to her. She stared at him in confusion for a while, not quite knowing what he expected her to do with it.

"Here. Take it. I don't need it anymore. I've already arrived at where I was going to and you seem impatient to get back to your homestead." He sent her a small smile and she smiled back, genuinely, and took the umbrella. Her hand brushed against his and she felt him tense, but she did not look back into his face. He was handsome, she had noticed, but her mind did not care much for emotions of attraction or love. Atleast, not at that moment in time.

"Thank you." She murmered, smiling towards him again. He nodded his head in an almost regal manner and she found herself wondering who this handsome individual was. She looked out down the sidewalk towards her trail back to the house, but when she looked back he was gone. She frowned and gripped the black umbrella tighter. With a shrug she stepped back out onto the sidewalk and walked home in the rain under the shelter of the umbrella.

She unlocked the door, ignoring the barking of their dog Simba. She stuck the umbrella out the door and violently shook the rain water off of it. She closed the door and looked back down at the umbrella the stranger had given her. Her eyes wandered over the beautiful crafted handle. It was a lovely cherry with a mother of pearl ball at the base. As she observed it, a silver plate struck her attention and she squinted, reading the inscription of cursive. It was only two letters inscribed but it was enough to make her drop the umbrella onto the floor with a clatter.

The cursive 'H.L.' was enough to get her heart beating rapidly, and she shook her head telling herself it could just be a coincidence. She chalked it up to obsession and a vibrant imagination that she had always possessed. However, she knew the possibilities of this world were endless and she also knew that Hannibal Lecter's whereabouts were not known. She picked the umbrella up off the floor and remembered the name of the hotel they had been in front of. Her curiosity took a dangerous turn and she began hastily unloading groceries.

When she had finished she glanced at the clock and realized it was almost time for her father to arrive. She quickly wrote a note, explaining she would be out eating a small dinner and possibly shopping and grabbed her coat and the mysterious umbrella and left. She walked briskly, keeping down the rising fear in her throat. She knew she shouldn't be doing it, but her curiosity continued to grow. She would return the umbrella and find out who this man was. She was not going to turn him in to her father, by any means. She did not necessarily agree with Hannibal's actions, but she also knew the men got what they deserved. She had no feeling of sympathy for them, but moreso sympathized with their killer.

The rain had left the streets wet and she tried to avoid the puddles. The new dress her father had bought her was silk, and she did not want to get it wet. Her feet stopped outside of the hotel and she looked around. The doorman nodded politely to her and she smiled back and nodded. She walked away and adjusted the hat on her head as she leaned against the brick of the building.

"Hello Madam Popil." Her head jerked up towards the voice and her eyes landed on the handsome man who had given her the umbrella. She pushed off of the wall and walked towards him. She handed him the umbrella and observed him silently. His eyes landed on the umbrella and then looked back at her. Her grabbed it from her and looked it over, his eyes rose back to her and he smiled.

"Thank you."

She smiled and nodded.

"You know my name because you're Doctor Lecter, correct?" She asked. She already knew the answer, but she still needed to hear it from his lips. He pursed his lips and smiled, not giving her an answer. She quickly added, "I'm not turning you in to my father. I have no sympathy for the lives you took."

He raised his eyebrows and nodded. "Yes, I am Hannibal Lecter. I appreciate your kindness, and thank you for returning my umbrella."

She nodded and was distracted by the doorman going inside of the hotel, trailing behind some hotel patrons, and it left she and Hannibal alone on the sidewalk. She quickly stepped back when he stepped towards her. She never liked to admit her fear, but the stories she knew were true did frighten her. She gasped as he grabbed her, one strong arm around her waist and the other with a syringe at her throat.

"I almost feel guilty for doing this." He murmered into her ear as he jabbed the syringe into her throat. The last thing she remembered before going unconcious was him quitetly shushing her and running a hand through her hair.


	3. Chapter 3

**Chapter 3**

Morgan awoke to a dripping sound. The echo made her head throb and she groaned. Just that sound from her lips created a bigger echo, and she figured it would be better if she stayed quiet. She opened her heavy eyes, but slammed them shut again to will away the pain in her skull. When it subsided she opened her eyes again, letting them adjust to the darkness. The air smelled of mold and it was cold. As she came to, she realized she felt a pulling in her arms. Her eyes looked up and she realized she was in a standing position, her arms secured above her head keeping her that way. Her feet were firmly on the ground, her back resting against the wall.

Fear swelled inside of her and she thrashed wildly against the chains. The loud clanging was painful but she continued in some sort of pathetic hope that she would free herself. Her wrists hurt as she tried to pull them through the large, metal cuffs and tears of frustration sprung to her eyes. She kicked the air and finally gave up with a small whimper of defeat. She quickly blinked away the tears as she heard footsteps.

She did not turn her head, but let her hair house her face like a curtain. Her memory served her still and she remembered who had taken her. The fear she had felt had subsided to anger now, but she knew it would do her no good. She was being used as bait for her father and she knew it.

"Wakey-wakey."

She snarled, but did not look up towards the voice. She imagined his lips and grimaced in disgust mixed with attraction. How could such a monster be so beautiful? That's what made him so dangerous and so hypnotizing. She felt his fingertips brush her hair away from her face and for the first time she looked up. His eyes were bright in the dimly light room, which resembled a dungeon. Her eyes shifted behind him and she noted a small bed with a nighttable and a lamp. She looked back at him and he smiled at her.

"I do suppose you're wondering where you are. I cannot disclose that to you, however I will tell you that you are being held as collateral. Your father has tried to take everything that I have from me. So, I took the only thing he has left-" He smiled once again at her, his finger tracing her jawline and she jerked away from it violently. "You."

He was not surprised at her reaction to him. He knew her father had told her many horrible things, but he figured he would use it to his greatest advantage. He did not want to hurt the poor girl, but he would gladly scare her if only for the sake of reality when he would phone the Inspector. Clues had already been left outside of the hotel for her father to follow. Little did her father know she was nestled safely in the unused boiler room of the hotel, right beneath Hannibal's suite.

Morgan refused to speak and refused to look at him anymore. The monster he was scared and disgusted her. She wanted to be home and be able to sleep in her own bed. She hated Lady Murasaki for bringing this on her and her father. Morgan desparately wanted a bath, as well. The room made her feel dirty and she was sweaty from the drugs he had given her. Her wrists ached against her restraints and through her dry mouth she found her voice.

"Please. If you would kindly remove my restraints, I would be much obliged."

Hannibal looked at her and walked away. She leaned her head back and groaned in frustration. Her feet were aching in her heels and she needed a glass of water. As if reading her thoughts, Hannibal returned with a glass of clear sparkling water in his hand. She leaned forward, and he lightly poured the water down her throat. She did not care about manners, as she gulped thirstily, some water dribbling out the corner of her mouth and down her neck towards the neckline of her dress. She finished the glass greedily and he once again walked away.

"Why won't you release me? I won't try and run. But this position is dreadfully uncomfortable."

"I can't at this moment. Once I decide to move you, you'll be moved. No amount of pestering me will do. You may be able to get what you want from your father, but I'm a different story." Hannibal said, angrily. He was taking his frustrations out on her and he knew it. He watched her eyes slant in an angry manner and she spat at him. He quickly stepped back, her spit missing him.

He angrily charged at her, turning her so that her back was to him, and he heard her gasp in fear. He felt her body tense against him and his arms wrapped around her figure.

"You are at my mercy, little girl. Don't try thinking you are free to do as you please. I could kill you right now and no one would know of it until I was out of the country. I've no mercy, no heart, and no remorse. Don't you forget that." He whispered hotly in her ear. Her body was still tensed as he pressed closer to her. His body enjoyed the feeling and his mind enjoyed her fear. Her stubborness however, would have to be broken.

He knew he would never break her of it, though, and that was what made it hard for him to keep her. He admired her personality and her independence. He had watched her at the market and he had seen how she handled situations. He felt the need to test her while she was in captivity with him and he wanted to push her to the limit and see where it got them. His body felt the attractions to her, but he did not allow his mind to go that far. This was the bloodline of his sworn enemy, and there would be no comprimise in making this the most terrifying time of Pascal's life.

"The things I could do to you that no one would know of until they found your body. You've heard the stories?" He questioned. She nodded, her fear clearly subsiding." He grasped her cheeks and he felt her heart rate rise again. "I could eat your pretty little face, and no one would hear your screams."

He grasped her arms, which he knew were now tingling as they were losing feeling. "I could skin your arms and make a nice dish." With lightening speed, he lifted the hem of her dress and her slip and slid down onto his knees, grasping her full and taught bottom in his hands. "I could eat every part of you and no one would care. It's only..." He softly scraped his teeth against her left butt cheek and he heard her gasp. "...which do I eat first."

He rose quickly and left her there, softly crying.


	4. Chapter 4

**Author's Note:** Thanks so much for the quick reviews!!! Thanks to Bugsy, sinfulxscars, and Smithy! You guys are my inspiration and really keep me going!!! I know where this story is going, but I find my mind and imagination leading me through many twists and turns. Hopefully the story won't get reported to the No-Sex-Nazi's! If so, it's going on as well ;) Thanks!!!

**Chapter 4**

Hannibal sat in his suite, smoking a cigarette, trying to sort through his plans. He would wait until Pascal was in a panic over Morgan being gone, wait for the news program to give details, and then he would call the inspector at home with the details. It was not to kill, this time. It was to test the inspector and to let Lady Murasaki know how disgusted he was with her choices. He felt as if she had betrayed him.

He hated involving the innocent Morgan, but she was the best choice there was. He definitely had taken pity on her for a second when she had asked in such a kind way to be removed from her restraints. The glass of water was a peace offering, in a way, but she had no seen that. He was glad, actually. He needed her fearful and broken. Otherwise, the phone calls to her father would not work.

The man in him had wanted to lick the stray water that had travelled down her neck and towards her bosom, but he had restrained himself. It was a shame that Pascal's daughter was so pretty. This would cause problems. Big problems. Hannibal had needed a glass of wine after the little display earlier. He did not feel too much sympathy for her, yet, but his attraction to the young woman did not help.

He was a chivalrous man and did not enjoy seeing women in pain, so therefore she would not be in pain. She would only be scared.

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Pascal was angry. It was midnight and Morgan had not come back. He was angry because this seemed like something she would do just to aggravate him and pull his attention away from Lady Murasaki. She had since left, having felt sorry for the inspector and placing a soft kiss on his lips before her departure. He was now seated by the telephone, waiting on any sort of call. There, in an upright position, he fell asleep.

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Hannibal returned down to the boiler room after his cigarette and glass of wine and saw her there. She had succumbed once again to sleep, the drugs obviously not having fully worn off. He approached her and eyed her carefully. Not wanting to take any chances at having her pretend to sleep and then strike out at him once he unchained her. But she did not move even when his hand lightly caressed her waist over the silk dress. 

He held onto her waist as he pulled the key from his pocket and unlocked her restraints. She dropped fully into his arms and he lifted her like a babe and walked towards the bed. He softly set her down and frowned at the red marks on her delicate wrists. Her pale skin made the red look angry and far worse than it really was. His fingers trailed over the skin of her wrists and he felt her move. He jerked back quickly and shaking the feelings of pity, he once again secured her.

He only secured her by her leg this time. He did not put anything past her. She was fiesty and he knew she was stubborn. The bed was heavy and she would not be able to move very far with the chain attached from the bed to her leg. He watched her sleep for atleast five short minutes when she finally woke up. Her eyes blinking rapidly and then finally resting on him as he sat on the edge of the bed, smoking another cigarette. She shifted her position and watched him closely.

"You're not really going to eat me. You only eat the rude, and I'm not rude." It was a statement and not a question. He raised an eyebrow as he took another drag.

"Really?"

"Yes, really. You'll never get any sort of reaction from me, you know. I might be frightened, but I will not scream."

Hannibal smiled and licked his lips as he looked from her horizontal form. He shook his head and chuckled. He turned back towards her and she was staring at him. He read her thoughts quickly and was surprised to see she was sizing him up in much the same way he had done to her the first time he saw her. Her eyes were intense and hard. Not like her father's soft and inviting ones. Hers were very inviting, but in much a different way. It was almost like she was challenging you to approach her, to touch her, and to try to get to know her.

They stared at eachother for a while. Neither wanting to be the first to look away in this game of cat and mouse. He grinned sadistically towards her and threw his cigarette on the ground. His hand grasped her calf, tightly, but she did not react. He narrowed his eyes at her and tilted his head. She was making him angry on purpose and he knew it. She was pushing him like he pushed her, and she had her own powers. Hers was the power of seduction and of lust. She knew how to use everything God gave her as a woman to her advantage. She was intelligent, as well, and played his mind games very well. This angered him, but it was not in the same way Grutas and his gang made him angry. This was a game. And it would be very well played.


	5. Chapter 5

**Author's Note:** Sorry it took me so long to update! Seems like I can't get enough done lately. BLAH! Anyway, these seem like filler chapters to me, but they are leading up to some GOOD stuff! Soon, my pretties, soon! Promise! Love you guys!

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**Chapter 5**

He removed his hand after getting no reaction and once again left her alone. She may not have reacted to him, but he sure did react to her. Once inside of his hotel room he took some deep breaths to calm his growing erection and once he was pleased he was fully calm, he ordered room service. After eating his meal, he ordered a second helping for Morgan and turned on the television while he waited.

The news was boring and bland with news stories of returning war heroes and your usual meaningless crimes. There was no news story of any missing girl and he found himself a little surprised. He rose to switch off the television and hearing the knock on the door, opened it for the next meal. He tipped the boy who had delivered it and once the hallway was clear, he lifted the plate and wine off of the tray and calmly made his way back down to the boiler room, whistling as he went.

When he went in, he saw her sitting on the bed, her shoes removed and she was rubbing her feet. Her face was in a grimace and she looked up, all emotion falling away once again. He set the food on the night table next to the bed and set the wine bottle and glass next to it. She looked at him cautiously and then greedily began eating. The drugs, he knew, made her ravenous and he began pouring her a glass of white wine.

He set it down and took a seat across from her and watched her eat. She obviously did not care for manners at this moment in time and he did not blame her. Looking at his watch he realized the hour and found himself to be tired. He knew she would be tired again after finishing the meal. Once he had gathered the silverware and the plate, he took the bottle of wine and moved it away from her grasp, much to her disappointment. He held back a laugh at the look on her face and continued to make his way for the door. She did not speak, but he felt a need to tell her what was going to happen.

"I'm going to retire for the evening. But I'll check on you in the morning. Sleep well, m'lady."

He flipped the light switch before shutting the door behind him. Morgan shifted her position on the bed and lay down on her back. Her skin felt sticky and she needed a bath. She would have to ask him if she could take one tomorrow. She had found his weakness for being a gentleman to her advantage, so therefore she knew he would not deny her the basic needs. Her hands rested on her full belly and she smiled. He was an attractive man, and she knew she had a weakness for the bad boys. But now was definitely not the time to be attracted to someone.

She desparately wanted to call her father and tell him to come get her, but she feared for his safety. She was not sure if Hannibal wanted to kill him when he came for her, or if he just wanted to scare the daylights out of him. Either way, she still feared for her father's safety. She had never felt so used and stupid in her life. Her curiosity had turned from a good thing to a large fault in her personality. She felt guilty for lying to her father about where she had been going. If only the note had told the truth, she would be safe now and in her father's waiting arms.

Morgan drifted off into a dreamless sleep, which was mainly drug induced. She did not know the time, but she had estimated it to be atleast nine in the p.m. She did not wake until late in the morning.

* * *

By the time Pascal was at work, he knew something terrible had happened. He began shouting orders at the officers which he had gathered in his office, telling them to follow every lead they had to the disappearance of his daughter. By lunch, the officers had returned with many eye witnesses and one had even returned with the hat she had been wearing when she disappeared. He had found it in market place, and many eye witnesses said that earlier in the day a drunken man had verbally assaulted her.

After reviewing files, Pascal found the man had been released from his cell yesterday only a few hours after the incident. Officer Paradis had told Pascal that Morgan had spat in the drunk's face, enraging the drunk even more. Pascal's fear was rising, and even though he followed the lead, he felt as if he was headed in the wrong direction. Something did not seem right and he knew Morgan had a habit of getting herself into trouble and not being able to get herself out of it.

When they found the drunk, he was at home with his wife and children in a run down shack on the bad side of town. His wife and kids vouched for his arrival at home the previous night and said that he had stayed there until that morning. Inspector Popil had apologized for the intrusion and once again turned to the only people he knew could help. He turned to the news station to send out a radio broadcast and a television broadcast, as well, for that evening's news.

He begged for her return. The guys at the office had kindly set up a 24 hour call service for any sort of tips. There was no way to find Morgan's whereabouts except for pleading or manipulating the kidnapper. Pascal sat nervously at home, his leg bouncing as he sat in silence. He would glance at the phone occasionally. The boys at the station had told him to get some sleep, and that they would call if anything came up. Pascal was not used to not being involved, and the fact that it involved his only remaining family member was killing him. It was Morgan.

He stared vacantly at the photo in his hand of a very beautiful Japanese woman in American clothing, standing with her hand holding a small girl's hand. Pascal gulped in a breath as he fought the tears. He rested his head in his hands and finally let go. He let out some very unmanly whimpers and cried until he couldn't cry anymore. The pain in his gut was searing. He had fought so hard to protect Morgan, especially during the war, and now here he was losing his grip on control. He did not want to begin to think where she was right now.


	6. Chapter 6

**Chapter 6**

Hannibal had woken up in a very happy state. After eating his breakfast, he went to check on Morgan and found her to be asleep. He continued to check every hour until he finally walked in to see her sitting up in bed, looking extremely bored.

"Good morning." She said. He ignored her as he checked her restraints, making sure they were still properly placed. He finally glanced up after doing so and smiled.

"Good morning. How are you feeling?" He wasn't sure why he asked it. He chalked it up to the fact that not only was he a doctor, but he needed her alive and well. She shrugged and looked from him, her eyebrows raised in boredom.

"I'm alright. I would like to ask you a favor."

Hannibal waited for her to plead with him about something like letting her go.

"Try." He stated, coldly. He did not have time for little girls who played with his mind or tried to fuck up his plans. He had waited months for this, and it was not going to go awry.

"May I have a bath, please?" She questioned, simply. He noticed her hair was dirty and she had smudges on her wrists from the layer of the metal that had previously restrained her. Hannibal felt bad, suddenly, that he had not realized. He nodded his consent and removed from the drawer of the side table a pair of handcuffs. The key safely in his pocket, he cuffed her slender wrist to his wrist. He undid her leg restraint and moved to let her stand up. She wobbled a bit, and he rested a hand under her ribcage to support her.

She glanced at him and pulled away quickly. He found himself not wanting her to hate him. To tell him that she understood why he was doing this and that she would forgive him when it was all over. Her chin jutted out stubbornly and he smiled at how very much like Lady Murasaki she was. Stubborn, strong, and outspoken. He felt his attraction to Morgan growing. He grasped her hand and she whipped her head to look at him.

"Hold my hand so if anyone should pass us by, the cuffs are not visible." He then wrapped his hand around the back of her neck. "If you scream for help, so help me, I will go against my plans to not kill you." She grimaced at his grip and he waited for her reply. He felt his fingertips tingle in anticipation of her next biting remark and she watched as his eyes sparkled mischeviously. She sneered at him.

"I have said before, I will not scream. Especially for you."

He smiled and released her, his grin showing amusement. He tugged her hand and leaned his head out the door to watch for any passers by. He lead her towards the stairway and up to his room. Her steps were light and dainty, he had noticed. She looked around, obsorbing her surroundings, as he unlocked the door to his room. She figured she may as well learn of where she was while she had the chance. She did know it was a hotel, and realization struck. She was merely feet away from where he had first assaulted her.

She quickly came back to reality as he ushered her into the room and locked the door back. He took the key out and undid the cuff around his wrist and grabbing her cuffed wrist, sat her down on the bed and cuffed it to the bed post. She sat impatiently as she watched him run some bathwater and gather some shampoo and soap for her to use. She found herself feeling guilty for checking out his rear as he bent over to sprinkle bath oils in the large tub. She looked away quickly when he turned around to check that she was where she should be.

She looked around the room, gathering information and storing it in her mind. She noticed he was obviously a little obsessive compulsive, as everything was neatly in place and positioned perfectly. She looked at the phone, but did not feel the urge to chance being caught. He did not want to kill her, she knew, but she did not put it past him to potentially hurt her or her father. He had ingenious ways of torturing people. Like a spider torturing a fly in its web, almost. She did not want to be the fly. She would not give him the satisfaction.

He sauntered up to her, uncuffing her once more, he brought her into the bathroom. He removed the restraints for both her wrists and she stood, staring at him. He stared back, and she rolled her eyes.

"I must relieve myself. I do not feel comfortable with you watching, unless you enjoy things like that." Her sarcasm burned him, and he turned his back. After hearing the toilet flush he once again turned around and she was removing her shoes and stretching her feet. He grabbed a towel and held it up as a make shift curtain. She stared at him blankly and he raised his eyebrows, telling her to continue.

She growled angrily and began removing her clothes. He smiled silently in a bit of perverse satisfaction that she was complying with his selfish requests. He would have left her alone in the bathroom if she had asked, but he wanted to test her again and push her patience. He did not trust her to use anything to her advantage, but he also knew she was more concerned about bathing than getting away. When she was finished she sank into the bubbling bath water, and modestly made sure the bubbles hid her body. He walked out of the bathroom, leaving the door open as she sat in the hot water.


	7. Chapter 7

**Author's Note:** I'm not dead yet! Sorry guys. I've been busy with work and doing some recordings for my OTHER life. Heehee. Hope you enjoy this chapter, it's a longer one for you. Aaaack, I hope to crank Chapter 8 soon! Thanks!

* * *

**Chapter 7**

She felt her muscles beginning to relax and she closed her eyes and sighed. She opened them to see that he had not come back, and hearing the door shut to the hotel room, she leaned back in the tub and sank down. She took the wash rag and gently ran it over her, removing the prior evening's layer of dirt, sweat, and grime. She scrubbed her face free of the little bit of make up that she had been wearing and then submerged her head completely in the water. She was enjoying her privacy that he had given her. After re-emerging from the bubbles she grabbed the small bottle of shampoo and squeezing it into her hand, began massaging it into her scalp and hair.

He watched silently from the desk chair in the hotel room after he had come back from the office of the hotel, finally able to watch her in her own private comfort. The angle he was at, he could see her in the full length bathroom mirror. He watched her slick, wet skin glimmering in the light as her arms continued to massage the shampoo into her scalp. His fingers itched to run his hand through her hair. The attraction was sinful and had originally been based on a sick, perverse need for control. But now, the control factor had grown into a lust that was built on top of the control. It fed his animal needs and he found himself predatory and wanting to find her in a weak state.

He watched her rinse her hair and run her hands over her face to get the dripping water out of her eyes. His breath caught in his throat as he watched her stand in the tub, water cascading down her body, and wet droplets hanging on her nipples and then dripping down her delicious curves. She was curvier than was the style these days, but he found it amazingly beautiful. Like a painting. He did not realize he was holding his breath until she wrapped a robe around her and stepped out of the tub, leaving the mirror's reflection.

Hannibal stood and went into the bathroom to watch her gently drying her hair with a towel. He gathered the brush he had gotten from the concierge and handed it to her. She silently thanked him with a small smile and began brushing her long hair. She felt better now that she was clean and had relaxed some. She had found herself almost comfortable for a moment until he walked back into the bathroom. She did not know when he had re-entered the hotel room and it made her aware of how extremely sneaky he could be.

The hairs on her arms bristled as he grabbed her wrist and looked over a small raw spot from where she had tried to force her way out of the restraints when she first arrived. She held her breath as he looked over it gently, and when he was satisfied that it would heal alright, he let go. She set the brush on the vanity and walked out of the bathroom, and began looking for her clothes.

"You won't find them." Hannibal was leaning against the doorframe, both his hands shoved deep in his pockets. She stood straight and turned to him.

"And why not?" She hoped the answer was that he had taken them to be cleaned.

"They've been used to create...a trail of evidence, if you will." He answered, as he walked towards her short frame. She laughed, sarcastically, but his smile did not faulter.

"And just what am I suppose to wear, Dr. Lecter?" She questioned. His smile still did not faulter and she found herself beginning to get angry. Did this mad man expect her to just saunter around in a bathrobe, or even worse- nude?! He was really out of his little mind, wasn't he? And that smug look...it made her want to smack the daylights out of him! He sure did have alot of damn nerve!

He saw her beginning to get angry and he slowly walked away and retrieved a plain, white, button-down shirt and handed it to her. She grasped it and with a huff, retreated back into the bathroom. Keeping her modesty, she turned her back to him and put on his shirt. It reached midthigh on her and was definitely big enough to cover what it needed to. He was extremely tall next to her it fit her like a dress. She turned around and ran a hand through her damp hair.

"Well? Are you going to feed me? I'm famished." She waltzed around the room as if she was in some sort of ball gown and was not in any sort of awkward situation. Hannibal glanced at the clock, and noticing it was after the noon hour he called for room service. Ordering them both something to eat, he hung up the phone and sat comfortably in his chair. Flipping on the radio, he was pleased to hear a news report describing Morgan and giving a phone number to call if anyone had any information. He quickly jotted it down.

"Do you plan on asking for money? I don't think it wise. Inspectors don't make all that much money, and the only money we have left is an old inheritance, which still isn't all that much." Morgan was sitting on the bed, legs crossed elegantly as she flipped the pages of a medical book. He glanced over, letting his eyes run shamelessly over her legs.

"No. I am not interested in money." He stated it plainly, feeling no need to go into any sort of information on how he only wanted to see the inspector suffer. His plan seemed to just be getting deeper by the hour. The collateral he had chosen proved to be a most interesting twist and he felt as if it would come in handy thatnd himself to be lusting after her.

"What are you interested in?" She questioned.

Gone was the mind of the little boy that had left Murasaki. He was now a man who knew how to get what he wanted. His keen sense of human emotion lended itself to be useful in his art of seduction. He would admit that he had seduced many a woman, but he would never find one as difficult as Morgan. Despite her own knowledge of any sort of attraction, her adamant denial of this fact proved to be extremely pain staking. She would deny it with her final breath, even.

The light hit the white shirt, allowing him a glimpse of the shadow of her nipples underneath the soft cotton fabric. He wet his lips instinctively and stood. Her eyes were still firmly on the pages of the medical book and her hair had slowly started to dry. He stood in front of her, and although she knew he was there, she did not acknowledge him with any sort of look. She could smell him just inches from her. She smelled his expensive after shave and his expensive Italian soap. He stood still as she turned another page.

She flinched as he grabbed the book from her grasp and roughly pulled her up to stand in front of him. Her fists were clenched and her nails dug into her palms. Her body was rigid as he pulled her roughly against him. His jaw clenched in a sadistic smile as he leaned in towards her unwavering face. Her expression held interest and a fear that she refused to show completely. Her breath came in quick pants and the feeling of her breasts moving against him with each breath sent him reeling.

"Do you wish to know what I want?" He asked, leaning in to smell her hair. He felt her turn away from him and he once again pressed her closer to him. She glared at him, sternly and watched him. His rough handling no doubt turned her on, but she would never admit it to him. She watched as he pulle done of his hands away from her arm and his finger went to his mouth. Inserting a long finger between his full lips, he wet it as his eyes held hers. As he pulled it out from between his lips, realization hit her and she was frozen. His hand quickly grasped the inside of her thigh and she began to push against his chest. His mouth leaned in closer to her and she felt his cool, even breath on her wet lips as he whispered.

"As you wish."


	8. Chapter 8

**Author's Note:** Here you all go! Hope you like it!!!! Thanks so much for the awesome reviews. They made me smile. I hope this chapter lives up to your expectations and leaves you wanting more, as always. You all are so sweet and precious to me. It means so much and really keeps this story going!

* * *

**Chapter 8**

She closed her eyes tightly and held her breath, an excitable fear ripping through her. The loud knock on the door made her release the breath she had been holding, and she felt his hand slowly stroke the inside of her shivering thigh. She opened her eyes to see him looking towards the door, his breathing perfectly even. He turned back towards her and gently let her go as he made his way to answer the door.

She walked briskly to the bathroom and shut the door behind her, locking it as she regained her composure. She leaned her back against the cool wall of the bathroom and groaned as she realized the familiar feel of the pooling between her thighs. She swallowed hard as she fought off the urge to touch herself and grabbing some toiletries, she cleaned herself up.

She bit her lip and examined herself in the mirror. Her hair was dry now, and her skin was flushed. She wet her dry lips and quietly opened the bathroom door to see dinner laid out on a small portable table. Hannibal was nowhere to be found as she sat down and began eating. She unconsciously waited for him to come back.

* * *

The phone rang at the station and the officers immediately hopped up to answer it. Pascal had gone back home long ago. The chief did not think it wise for him to be on duty in such a delicate situation.

"Bonjour." The officer spoke sternly into the receiver.

"Yes. I do believe I have information regarding Ms. Morgan Popil." A silky, regal voice came through from the other line. The officer raised his eyebrows and nodded to his fellow officers to grab him a pen and paper.

"Please, continue."

"Tell Inspector Popil…She is safe and unharmed…for the time being, that is. One stupid mistake and I cannot promise she will not be missing a few precious characteristics of her beautiful face."

The inspectors looked at each other, each word was heard by the men grouped around the phone. Young and old, their faces were eager and yet somewhat fearful. Young Morgan reminded them of their own daughters and sisters. The reality of the situation had fully set in with the cryptic phone call.

"I will tell him. Where are you located?" The pen was poised, ready to take down any sort of information regarding where they were.

"You tell him exactly that. Word for word. Or I cut your tongue out."

The dial tone was sharp and cold, and it made the officers jump. The inspector set the phone down back on the cradle and without another word, briskly walked to the restroom to throw up his dinner.

Meanwhile, Morgan's slip was found by officer's, dangling from the phone cord in a phone booth.

* * *

Hannibal arrived back in the hotel room, and after shedding his coat onto a nearby chair, he turned to see Morgan spread out on his bed, grasping a nearly empty wine bottle. He shook his head and began to walk towards her sleeping form. Her position was suggestive in the almost spread-eagle position. It was somehow more lady-like, her legs curved in an L-shaped manner, her free hand resting gently on her stomach.

He smiled a half-smile as he let his fingers trial up the back of her thigh. She shifted but immediately went back to her drunken slumber. His hand had paused briefly, but once she was settled again, it continued to travel further.

The incident earlier had left him feeling empty and wanting more. It had been terribly hard not to plunge his fingers deep inside of her virgin pussy. He wanted to have that blood on his hands. To know he had taken the young innocence of the inspector's daughter and made her scream the very name that her father despised. The sweet satisfaction would almost be as good as his orgasm.

The thing he was tempted to teach her were mind blowing. He wondered how many men she had truly kissed and how many men she had gone to the back seat with, awkwardly petting each other. He let his hand cup her rear and he leaned over and trailed his nose along the side of her thigh. His eyes on her sleeping face as he nipped at her hip.

He pulled away, slowly as her eyes fluttered open and landed on him. She groaned and a hand shielded her eyes from the lamp light. He grabbed the empty wine bottle and set it on the night stand.

"Drunk before five, m'lady? How terribly unattractive." He knew he was lying. The act may not be unattractive, but the visual she gave was a totally different story. She rolled her eyes in annoyance and slurred her words together.

"Tell me, _DOCTOR,_ do you honestly think I care what you find attractive?" She rose and began to stumble towards the door. His hands grasped her hips and pulled her back towards him as he steadied her.

She turned towards him and stumbling back, she plopped herself into his lap. The pressure on his growing erection made him bite his lip. In her drunkenness she didn't notice and continued to talk.

"I know you find me attractive. But honestly, doctor, it would never work between us, you know. My father would never approve. And although you're terribly attractive, I don't think you could handle me. You need a tame one that you can control with your little…" she waggled her fingers in his face as if performing a magic trick, "mind games." She finished.

He tilted his hand and rested a hand on her thigh. She glanced down and in her haze truthfully didn't care. In her drunkenness she saw herself as untouchable! Quite honestly she did not think he had the gall to force himself upon her. She grinned and turned to straddle him on the bed.

He gritted his teeth in a game of self-control and his upper lip twitched in excitement as he could feel the warmth from between her thighs. His eyes grew heavy with lust as he watched her lean her face in to his. She stared at his mouth and fought the urge to kiss him. She had only kissed a few boys from school, each she had gone steady with. But none made her feel like this.

Hannibal actually made her feel like a woman. Yet she despised how he made her feel like a damsel in distress.

"Tell me…doctor…" Her mouth was inches from his and her French lilt was thick from the wine. Her swallowed hard and nodded for her to continue. "Which part would you start with first? You never did tell me."


	9. Chapter 9

**Author's Note: **HELLO! I'm back! Finally got these two chapters out. I'm so sorry for being gone so long! But thank you everyone for pushing me to write more! Hope you enjoy! Please review!

**Chapter 9**

He licked his lips briefly and swallowed, wetting his palette.

"Well, dear. I do prefer my dishes cooked in white wine, not red." His smirk made her snarl.

"The only dish you could ever get would need wine to be willing to be eaten by you."

Her hand met the side of his face and she hastily rose and promptly fell on her rear onto the floor. Hannibal sat still, making no move to help her up. She looked at him, seething at his rudeness. His refusal to help a lady off of the floor was just unacceptable! He had rejected her and she knew it. He playing games with her and toying with her emotions. Taking her higher and higher onto a mountain of lust just to throw her back off and watch her fall.

Tugging them hem of the shirt to cover her bottom, she rose and made a mad dash for the door. He was faster, however illogical and impossible that seemed. He reached where she was before her dainty hands could even turn the knob. His strong hands were rough on her as he hoisted her quickly over his shoulder like a sack of potatoes and carried her kicking back down into the boiler room. Her hands kicked his back, but she didn't know why she didn't scream. It was almost as if she didn't want to leave him. He was an escape from the troubles of the world. An escape from her father and Lady Murasaki.

Her anger rose as he shoved her against the cold wall, knocking the wind out of her. He was being rough this time. Not the gentle, meticulous Hannibal that she had come to expect. This time, he was angry.

Her hands her once again restrained as she stood cold, and motionless. Her legs produced goosebumps as the shirt lifted, exposing everything to the cool air. Her arms once again felt the familiar sore feeling from before. She was ashamed that she had hit him. How she had ruined her chances now! She had been in the lap of leisure, almost, and now she had blown it. She looked down at her feet, embarrassed by her actions.

Once he was convinced she was secured her grabbed her hair and forced her to look in his direction.

"Little girls should not try to play games with the big boys. You do not stand a chance against me."

She bit her lip and trembled. Closing her eyes she inhaled sharply.

"I'm sorry." She murmered, barely a whisper. He yanked on her hair and clenched his jaw.

"Say it again." He commanded.

"I'm sorry." It was louder now. He let go. She could not feel his warmth anymore and she opened her eyes. Small tears formed in the sharp corners of her eyes and she blinked them away. She exhaled slowly, glancing side to side, her green eyes dancing, fearful. She heard a sound from behind her, and then watched him slowly come into her vision. His face closed in on hers and his eyes traced her lips, memorizing drop of moisture produced by her tongue. Her legs were lifted off the ground and placed around his hips. His finger deftly unbuttoned her shirt and exposed her breasts to the cold air.

Her chest heaved in anticipation and fear. He wanted her. Oh, how he wanted her. He wanted to take her innocence. To taste her innocence and make it his. His left hand massaged her breast as his other moved to her plump rear, pulling her hips closer to his now exposed erection. She could feel it resting on her woman hood, which was now slick with want. His lips grazed hers and he inhaled her scent.

"Apologize again." He whispered. She trembled and hesitated, unsure of this game. Her big talk had gotten her in trouble. He sensed her hesitation and his hand crashed down onto her bottom, leaving a red print. She let out a sharp cry.

"I'm sorry. I'm sorry. I'm sorry." Her tongue stumbled over her own words as they came crashing out of her mouth. His hand squeezed her erect nipples roughly.

"Are you a virgin?"

The question rang through the humid air like a bullet. His hand found her face again and her turned it every which way, studying her bone structure.

"Yes." She murmered, meekly. She was embarassed to admit that she had never known the touch of a man. Her humility and embarassment aroused him. How he had waited for the moment that he could humble her. His hands moved from her face between her thighs. He slowly ran his fingertips along her womanhood to feel her lubrication.

"How would daddy feel if I returned a damaged package?"


	10. Chapter 10

**WARNING! IF YOU DO NOT LIKE GRAPHIC SEX, BONDAGE, BDSM, OR BLOOD - THEN DON'T READ THIS CHAPTER AND STAY IN THE DARK AGES!**

**Chapter 10**

His cock was throbbing at her entrance and her musk was enough to send him over the edge before even entering her. He was thicker and stronger than he had ever been with anyone else. He knew he would enjoy this one. Their eyes met and he studied her closely as his fingers found her opening and his middle finger made its grand entrance in, breaking her open like a new bottle of wine.

She cried out in pain. The pressure was agonizing, and then softly went away. Her head was reeling. She struggled against the restraints as she felt one more finger enter her, stretching her walls around them. Just as quickly as they had entered, they had exited. She opened her eyes and watched him as his tongue darted out lick the blood - her blood - off his long fingers. She watched in fear and astonishment as he savored every last drop. He really was insane. The swallowed hard and cried out as he quickly grabbed her hips and dove his long, hard cock into her.

The feeling was electrifying. The pressure on her womanhood as it accomodated him made her shudder. She whimpered in short gasps as he fucked her mercilessly. His head spun as he looked into her beautiful face. The beautiful face contorted in agony, fear, and pleasure. He ran his hand up her arm and grabbed the chains, thrusting harder. He could hear the constant clanking mixing in with her now loud cries of pleasure and pain. He grabbed her breasts again, squeezing her erect nippled between his fingers. He felt her begin to come on him, her juices seeping out and covering his thighs.

She had never known pleasure like this. This glorious pain that took over her body. It tingled. Everything tingled. Her head lulled back only to be roughly pulled back up to meet his lips, roughly. He had finally kissed her. After all this time. He had finally humbled himself to kiss her. His tongue explored her mouth, her teeth. It dueled with hers in a rough battle. He felt her spasm on his cock again and again.

"Next time you come, you ask for permission." He grabbed her face roughly. She yanked on her restraints, yearning to touch him. She could feel herself reaching her peak again. This one bigger than the others.

"Please, may I come?" She squeaked out.

"Count down from ten. When you reach one, you may."

She inhaled and began counting. Ten...nine...eight...she tightened up, holding it in as her smacked her bottom in warning...seven...six...five...four...she was on fire. And for the first time she heard him let out a growl. Three...Two...ONE.

She screamed and his hand landed over her mouth. She could hear him groaning in pleasure and it only intensified hers. Knowing she had done the same for him and he was doing for her. Her body clenched and released as she shook viciously. As she came down from her high, she felt him pull out and her legs quickly landed on the ground again, a mixture of her blood and their come running down her legs.


End file.
